



*^ A^ .>.%;^ '••■•- ^- 










Idylls of the Bible 



...BY... 



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MRS. F. E. W, HARPER 

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PHILADELPHIA 

1006 BAINBRIDGE STREET 

1901 



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J/^ci^^cu/ 




i.ie bequest cf 

Daniel Murray, 

Washine^ion, D. C 



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A STOKT OF THE NILE 



; iHE PARTING.— Chapter I. 

MOSES. 

Kind and gracious princess, more than friend, 
I'vd come to thank thee for thy goodness, 
And to breathe into thy generous ears 
My last and ead farewell. I go to joiu 
Th^ fortunes of my race, and to put asiuo 
All other bright advantages, save 
The approval of my conscience and the meed 
Of rightly doing. 

PRINCESS. 

What means, my son, this strange election ? 
What wild chimera floats across thy mind? 
What sudden impulse moves thy soul ? Thou wnc 
Hast only trod the court of kings, why seek 
Instead the paths of labor ? Thou, whose limbi 
Have known no other garb than that which w«ll 
Befits our kingly state, why rather choose 
The badge of servitude and toil ? 



MOSES. 

Let me tell thee, gracuui priucess ; 'tis no 

Sudden freak nor impulse wild that moves my mind 

I feel an earnest purpose binding all 

My soul unto a strong resolve, which bids 

Me put aside all other ends and aims, 

UiHil the hour shall come when God — the God 

Our fathers loved and worshipped — shall break oui 

chains, 
And lead our willing feet to freedom. 

PRINCESS. 

Listen to me, Moses : thou art young, 

And the warm blood of youth flushes thy veins 

Like generous wine ; thou wearest thy manhood 

Like a crown ; but what king e'er cast 

His diadem in the dust, to be trampled 

Down by every careless foot ? Thou hast 

Bright dreams and glowing hopes ; could'st thou no< 

live 
lliem out as well beneath the radiance 
Of our throne as in the shadow of those 
Bondage-darkened huts ? 

MOSES. 

Within those darkened huts my mother plies her taska, 
My father bends to unrequited toil ; 
And bitter tears moisten the bread my brethren eat 
And when I gaze upon their cruel wrongs 



The very purple on ray limbs seems drenched 

With blood, the warm blood of my own kindr«<* 

race; 
And then thy richest viands pall upon ray taste, 
And discord jars in every tone of song. 
[ cs.nnot live in pleasure while they faint 
In pain. 

PRINCESS. 

How like a dream the past floats back : it seeraa 
But yesterday when I lay tossing upon 
My couch of pain, a torpor creeping through 
Each nerve, a fever coursing through my veins. 
And there I lay, dreaming of lilies fair, 
Of lotus flowers and past delights, and all 
The bright, glad hopes, that give to early life 
Its glow and flush ; and thus day after day 
Dragged its slow length along, until, one morn, 
The breath of lilies, fainting on the air, 
' Floated into ray roora, ana then I longed once mor« 
To gaze upon the Nile, as on the face 
Of a familiar friend, whose absence long 
Had made a mournful void within the heart. 
I summoned to my side my maids, and bade 
Them place my sandals on my feet, and lead 
Me to the Nile, where I might bathe my weary 
Limbs within the cooling flood, and gather 
Healing from the sacred streara. 
I sought ray favorite haunt, and, bathing, found 
New tides of vigor coursing through my veins. 



Refreshed, I sat rae down to weave a crown of lotui 

leaves 
A^nci lilies fair, and while I sat in a sweet 
Revery, dreaming of life and hope, I saw 
A little wicker-basket hidden among 
The flags and lilies of the Nile, and I called 
My maidens and said, " Nillias and Osiria 
Bring me that little ark which floats beside 
The stream." They ran and brought me a precioui 

burden. 
"i v\ :is an ark woven with rushes and daubed 
With slime, and in it lay a sleeping child ; 
His little hand amid his clustering curls, 
And a bright flush upon his glowing cheek. 
He wakened with a smile, and reached out his hand 
To meet the welcome of the mother's kiss, 
When strange faces met his gaze, and he drew back 
With a grieved, wondering look, while disappoint 

ment 
Shook the quivering lip that missed the mother's 
Wonted kiss, and the babe lifted his voice and wept. 
Then my heart yearned towards him, and I resolved 
That I would brave my father's wrath and save 
The child ; but while I stood gazing upon 
His wondrous beauty, I saw beside me 
A Hebrew girl, her eyes bent on me 
With an eager, questioning look, and drawing 
N"ear, she timidly said, "shall I call a nurse?' 
I bade her go ; she soon returned, and with her 



Came a woman of the Hebrew race, whose 

Sad, sweet, serious eyes seemed overflowing 

With a strange and sudden joy. I placed the babe 

Within her arms and said, " Nurse this child fo» 

me ;" 
And the babe nestled there like one at home, 
While o'er the dimples of his face rippled 
The brightest, sweetest smiles, and 1 was woll 
Content to leave him in her care ; and well 
Did she perform her part. When many days h&d 
Passed she brought the child unto the palace ; 
And one morning, while I sat toying with 
His curls and listening to the prattle of hia 
Untrained lips, my father, proud and stately. 
Saw me bending o'er the child and said, 
" Charmian, whose child is this ? who of my Ior<l« 
Calls himself father to this goodly child ? 
He surely must be a happy man." 

Then I said, " Father, he is mine. He h t 
Hebrew child that I have saved from death." He 
Suddenly recoiled, as if an adder 
Had stung him, and said, " Charmian, take that 
Child hence. How darest thou bring a member 
Of that mean and servile race within my doors? 
Nay, rather let me send for Nechos, whose 
Ready sword shall rid me of his hateful presence.** 
Then kneeling at his feet, and catching 
Flold of his royal robes, I said, " Not so, 
Oh I ho/iored father, he is mine : I snatched 



Hira from the hungry jaws of death, and foiled 
The greedy crocodile of his prey ; he has 
Eaten bread within thy palace walls, and thy 
Salt lies upon his fresh young lips ; he has 
A. claim upon thy mercy." 

"Charraian, * fie s&i 
" I have decreed that every man child of that 
Hated race shall die. The oracles have said 
The pyramids shall wane before their shadow, 
And from thera a star shall rise whose light shall 
Spread over earth a baleful glow ; and this is why 
I root them from the lo.i^'X ; their strength is weaknew 
To my throne. I shut them from the light lest they 
Bring darkness to my kingdom. Now, Charmian, 
Give me up the child, and lot h/^ die." 
Then clasping the child closer to my heart, 
I said, " the pathway to his life is through ray own ; 
Around that life I throw my heart, a wall 
Of living, loving clay." Dark as the thunder 
Clouds of distant lands became my father's brow, 
And his eyes flashed with the fierce lightnings 
Of his wrath ; but while I plead, with eager 
Eyes upturned, I saw a sudden change come 
Over him ; his eyes beamed with unwonted 
Tenderness, and he said, " Charmian, arise, 
Thy prayer is granted ; just then thy dead mother 
Came to thine eyes, and the light of Asenath 
Broke over thy face. Asenath was the light 
Of my home : the star that %ded out too 



Suddenly from ray dwelling, and left my life 
To darkness, grief and pain, and for her sake, 
Not thine, I'll spare the child." And thus I aaved 
Thee twice — once from the angry sword and onco 
From the devouring flood. Moses, thou art 
Doubly mine; as such I claimed thee then, as such 
I claim thee now. I've nursed no other child 
Upon my knee, and pressed upon no other 
Lips the sweetest kisses of my love, and now, 
With rash and careless hand, thou dost thrust aside 

that love. 
There was a painful silence, a silence 
So hushed and still that you might have almost 
Heard the hurried breathing of one and the quick 
Throbbing of the other's heart : for Moses, 
He was slow of speech, but she was eloquent 
With words of tenderness and love, and had breathed 
Her full heart into her lips ; but there was 
Firmness in the young man's choice, and he beat 

back 
The opposition of her lips with the calm 
Grandeur of his will, and again he essayed to speak. 

M0SFJ8. 

Gracious lady, thou remembrest well 

The Hebrew nurse to whom thou gavest thy found 

ling. 
That woman was my mother : from her lips I 
Learned the grand tradit; Mia of '^'ir race that float. 



10 

With all tlieir weird and solemn beauty, around 

Our wrecked and blighted fortunes. How oft! 

With kindling eye and glowing cheek, forgetful 

Of the present pain, she would lead us through 

The distant past: the past, hallowed by deeds 

Of holy faith and lofty sacrifice. 

How she would tell us of Abraham, 

The father of our race, that he dwelt in Ur ; 

Of the Chaldees, and when the Chaldean king 

Had called him to his nacrifice, that he 

Had turned from his dumb idols to the living 

God, and wandered out from kindred, home ano 

race. 
Led by his faith in God alone ; and she would 
Tell us, — (we were three,) my brother Aaron, 
The Hebrew girl thou sentest to call a nurse, 
And I, her last, her loved and precious child ; 
She would tell us that one day our father 
Abraham heard a voice, bidding him offer 
Up in sacrifice the only son of his 
Beautiful and beloved Sarah ; that the father's 
Heart shrank not before the bitter test of faith, 
But he resolved to give his son to God 
As a burnt offering upon Moriah's mount ; 
That the uplifted knife glittered in the morning 
Sun, when, sweeter than the music of a thousand 
Harps, he heard a voice bidding him stay his hand, 
And spare the child ; and how his fiiith, like gold 
Tried in the fiercest fire, shone brighter through 



11 

Its fearful test. And then she would tell us 

Of a promise, handed down from sire to son, 

That God, the God our fathers loved and worshiped, 

Would break our chains, and bring to us a great 

Deliverance ; that we should dwell in peace 

Beneath our vines and palms, our flocks and herds 

Increase, and joyful children crowd our streets ; 

And then she would lift her eyes unto the far 

Off hills and tell us of the patriarchs 

Of our line, who sleep in distant graves within 

That promised land ; and now I feel the hour 

Draws near which brings deliverance to our rac«. 

PRINCESS. 

These are but the dreams of thy young fancy ; 
I cannot comprehend thy choice. I have heard 
Of men who have waded through slaughter 
To a throne ; of proud ambitions, struggles 
Fierce and wild for some imagined good ; of men 
Who have even cut in twain the crimson threade 
That lay between them and a throne ; but I 
Never heard of men resigning ease for toil, 
The splendor of a palace for the squalor 
Of a hut, and casting down a diadem 
To wear a servile badge. 

Sadly she gazed 
Upon the fair young face lit with its lofty 
Faith and high resolves — the dark prophetic eye« 
Which seemed to look beyond the present pain 



12 

Unto the future greatness of his race. 
As she stood before him in the warm 
Loveliness of her ripened womanhood, 
Her languid eyes glowed with unwonted fire, 
And the bright tropical blood sent its quick 
' Flushes o'er the olive of her cheek, on which 
Still lay the lingering roses of her girlhood. 
Grief, wonder, and surprise flickered like shadows 
O'er her face as she stood slowly crushing 
With unconscious hand the golden tassels 
Of her crimson robe. She had known life only 
By its brightness, and could not comprehend 
The grandeur of the young man's choice ; but she 
Felt her admiration glow before the earnest 
Faith that tore their lives apart and led him 
To another destiny. She had hoped to see 
The crown of Egypt on his brow, the sacred 
Leopard skin adorn his shoulders, and his seat 
The throne of the proud Pharaoh's ; but now her 
Dream had faded out and left a bitter pang 
Of anguish in its stead. And thus they parted. 
She to brood in silence o'er her pain, and he 
To take his mission from the hands of God 
And lead his captive race to freedom. 
With silent lips but aching heart she bowed 
Her queenly head and let him pass, and he 
Went forth to share the fortune of hia race, 
Esteeming that as better far than pleasures 
Bought by sin and gilded o'er with vice. 



13 

A nd he had chosen well, for on his brow 
God poured the chrism of a holy work. 
And thus anointed he has stood a bright 
Ensample through the changing centuries of tima 



Chapter II. 



It was a great change from the splendor, light 
And pleasure of a palace to the lowly huts 
Of those who sighed because of cruel bondage. 

As he passed 
Into the outer courts of that proud palace, 
He paused a moment just to gaze upon 
The scenes 'mid which his early life had passed- 
The pleasant haunts amid the fairest flowers, — 
The fountains tossing on the air their silver spray,— 
The statues breathing music soft and low 
To greet the first fixint flushes of the morn, — 
The obelisks that rose in lofty grandeur 
From their stony beds — the sphynxes gaunt and 

grim. 
With unsolved riddles on their lips — and all 
The bright creation's painters art and sculptors 
Skill had gathered in those regal halls, where mirth 
And dance, and revelry, and song had chased 
With careless feet the bright and fleeting hours. 



14 

He was leaving all ; but no regrets came 

Like a shadow o'er his mind, for he had felt 

The quickening of a higher life, as if his 

Soul had wings and he were conscious of their growth 

And yet there was a tender light in those 

Park eyes which looked their parting on the scenes 

Of beauty, where his life had been a joyous 

Dream enchanted with delight ; but he trampled 

On each vain regret as on a vanquished foe, 

And went forth a strong man, girded with lofty 

Purposes and earnest faith. He journeyed on 

Till palaces and domes and lofty fanes. 

And gorgeous temples faded from his sight, 

And the lowly homes of Goshen came in view. 

There he saw the women of his race kneading 

Their tale of bricks ; the sons of Abraham 

Crouching beneath their heavy burdens. He saw 

The increasing pallor on his sisters cheek, 

The deepening shadows on his mother's brow, 

The restless light that glowed in Aaron's eye, 

As if a hidden fire were smouldering 

In his brain ; and bending o'er his mother 

In a tender, loving way, he said, " Mother, 

I've come to share the fortunes of my race, — 

To dwell within these lowly huts, — to wear 

The badge of servitude and toil, and eat 

The bitter bread of penury and pain." 

A sudden light beamed from his mother's eye, 

And she said, " How's this, my son ? but yesterday 



16 

Two Hebrews, journeying from On to Goshen^ 

Told us they had passed the temple of the Sun 

But dared not enter, only they had heard 

Thai it was a great day in On ; that thou hadst 

Forsworn thy kindred, tribe and race ; hadst bowtxi 

Thy knee to Egypt's vain and heathen worship ; 

tiadst denied the God of Abraham, of Isaac, 

And of Jacob, and from henceforth wouldst 

Be engrafted in Pharaoh's regal line, 

And be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter. 

Wiien thy father Amram heard the cruel news 

He bowed his head upon his staff and wept. 

But I had stronger faith than that. By faith 

[ hid thee when the bloody hands of Pharaoh 

Were searching 'mid our quivering heart strings 

Dooming our sons to death ; by faith I wove 

The rushes of thine ark and laid thee 'mid 

The flags and lilies of the Nile, and saw 

The answer to that faith when Pharaoh's daughter 

Placed thee in my arms, and bade me nurse Lha 

child 
For her ; and by that faith sustained, I heard 
As idle words the cruel news that stabbed 
Thy father like, a sword." 
"The Hebrews did not hear aright; last week 
There was a great day in On, from Esoan's gate 
Unto the mighty sea ; the princes, lords 
A.nd chamberlains of Egypt were assembled ; 
Tfie temple of the sun was opened. Isia 



16 

And Osiris were uuveiled before the peoy^ » 
Apis and Orus were crowned with flowers ; 
Golden censers breathed their fragrance on the air 
The sacrifice was smoking on the altar ; 
The first fruits of the Nile lay on the taoies 
Of the sun : the music rose in lofty swells, 
Then sank in cadences so soft and low 
Till all the air grew tremulous with rapture. 
The priests of On were there, with sacred palma 
Within their hands and lotus leaves upon their 
F-v»vvs ; Pharaoh and his daughter sat waiting 
In their regal chairs ; all were ready to hear 
Me bind my soul to Egypt, and to swear 
Allegiance to her gods. The priestd of On 
Drew near to lay their hands upon my head 
And bid me swear, * Now, by Osiris, judge 
Of all the dead, and Isis, mother of us 
All,' that henceforth I'd forswear my kindred; 
Tribe and race ; would have no other gods 
Than those of Egypt ; would be engrafted 
Into Pharaoh's royal line, and be called 
The son of Pharaoh's daughter. Then, mothec 
Dear, I lived the past again. Again I sat 
Beside thee, my lips apart with childish 
Wonder, my eager eyes uplifted to thy 
Glowing face, and my young soul gathering 
Inspiration from thy words. Again I heard 
Thee tell the grand traditions of our race, 
Thfi blessed hopes and 8;lorious promises 



17 

That weave their golden threads among the sombre 
Tissues of our lives, and shimmer still amid 
The gloom and shadows of our lot. Again 
I heard thee tell of Abraham, with his constant 
Faith and earnest trust in God, unto whom 
The promise came that in his seed should all 
The nations of the earth be blessed. Of Isaae 
Blessing with disappointed lips his first born son, 
From whom the birthright had departed. Of Jacob, 
With his warm affections and his devious ways, 
Flying bcrore the wrath of Esau ; how he 
Slumbered in the wild, and saw amid his dreams 
A ladder reaching to the sky, on which God's 
Angels did descend, and waking, with a solemn • 
Awe o'ershadowing all, his soul exclaimed, *How 
Dreadful is this place. Lol God is here, and I 
Knew it not.' Of Joseph, once a mighty prince 
Within this land, who shrank in holy horror 
From the soft white hand that beckoned him to Bin 
Whose heart, amid the pleasures, pomp and pride 
Of Egypt, was ever faithful to his race. 
And when his life was trembling on its frailest choro 
He turned his dying eyes to Canaan, and made 
His brethren swear that they would make his grave 
Among the patriarchs of his line, because 
Machpelah's cave, where Abraham bowed before 
The sons of Heth, and bought a place to lay 
His loved and cherished dead, was dearer to his 
Dying heart than the proudest tomb amid 
The princely dead of Egyj)t. 



18 

Then, like the angels, mother dear, who met 

Our father Jacob on his way, thy words 

Came back as messengers of light to guide 

My steps, and I refused to be called the son 

Of Pharaoh's daughter. I saw the priests of On 

Grow pale with fear, an ashen terror creeping 

O'er the princess' face, while Pharaoh's brow grew 

Darker than the purple of his cloak. But I 

Endured, as seeing him who hides his face 

Behind the brightness of his glory. 

And thus I left the pomp and pride of Egypt 

To cast my lot among the people of my race." 



FLIGHT INTO MIDIAN.— Cuapteb III 

The love of Moses for his race soon found 

A stern expression. Pharaoh was building 

A pyramid ; ambitious, cold and proud, 

He scrupled not at means to gain his ends. 

W hen he feared the growing power of Israel 

He stained his hands in children's blood, and held 

A carnival of death in Goshen ; but now 

He wished to hand his name and memory 

Down unto the distant ages, and instead 

Of lading that memory with the precious 

fragrance of the kindest deeds and words, he 



19 

to write it out in stone, as cold 
And hard, and heartless as himself. 

And Israel was 
The fated race to whom the cruel tasks 
Were given. Day after day a cry of wrong 
And anguish, some dark deed of woe and crime, 
Came to the ear of Moses, and he said, 
" These reports are ever harrowing my soul ; 
I will go unto the fields where Pharaoh's 
Officers exact their labors, and see 
If these things be so — if they smite the feeble 
At their tasks, and goad the aged on to toils 
Beyond their strength — if neither age nor sex 
Is spared the cruel smiting of their rods." 
And Moses went to see his brethren. 

'Twas eventide, 
And the laborers were wending their way 
Unto their lowly huts. 'Twas a sad sight, — 
The young girls walked without the bounding steps 
Of youth, with faces prematurely old. 
As if the rosy hopes and sunny promises 
Of life had never flushed their cheeks with girlish 
Joy ; and there were men whose faces seemed to say 
We bear our lot in hopeless pain, we 've bent unto 
Our burdens until our shoulders fit them. 
And as slaves we crouch beneath our servitude 
And toil. But there were men whose souls were cas^ 
In firmer moulds, men with dark secretive ey*^s, 
Which seemed to say, to day we bide our time. 



20 

A.nd hide our wrath in every nerve, and only 

Wait a fitting hour to strike the hands that press 

Us down. Then came the officers of Pharaoh ; 

They trod as lords, their faces flushed with pride 

And insolence, watching the laborers 

Sadly wending their way from toil to rest. 

And Moses' heart swelled with a mighty pain ; sadi> ^ 

Musing, he sought a path that led him 

From the busy haunts of men. But even there 

The cruel wrong trod in his footsteps ; he heard 

A heavy groan, then harsh and bitter words, 

And, looking back, he saw an officer 

Of Pharaoh smiting with rough and cruel hand 

An aged man. Then Moses' wratn o'erflowed 

His lips, and every nerve did tremble 

With a sense of wrong, and bounding forth he 

Cried unto the smiter, " Stay thy hand ; seest thou 

That aged man ? His head is whiter than our 

Desert sands ; his limbs refuse to do thy 

Bidding because thy cruel tasks have drained 

Away their strength." The Egyptain raised his eyee 

With sudden wonder ; who was this that dared 

dispute 
His power? Only a Hebrew youth. His 
Proud lip curved in scornful anger, and he 
Waved a menace with his hand, saying, " back 
To thy task base slave, nor dare resist the will 
Of Pharaoh." Then Moses' wrath o'erleaped the 

bounds 



21 

Of prudence, and with a heavy blow he felled 
The smiter to the earth, and Israel had 
One tyrant less. Moses saw the mortal paleness 
Chase the flushes from the Egyptian's face, 
The whitening lips that breathed no more defianoi 
And the relaxing tension of the well knit limbs ; 
And when he knew that he was dead, he hid 
Him in the sand and left him to his rest. 

Another day Moses walked 
Abroad, and saw two brethren striving 
For mastery ; and then his heart grew full 
Of tender pity. They were brethren, sharers 
Of a common wrong: should not their wrongs more 
Closely bind their hearts, and union, not division, 
Be their strength? And feeling thus, he said, "ye 
Are brethren, wherefore do ye strive together?' 
But they threw back his words in angry tone^i 
And asked if he had come to judge them, and would 
Mete to thorn the fate of the Egyptian ? 
Then Moses knew the sand had fa.\M to keep 
His secret, that his life no more was safe 
Fn Goshen, and he fled unto the deserte 
Of Arabia and became a shepherd 
For the priest of Midian- 



22 

Chapter IV, 

Men grow strong in action, but in solitude 
Their thoughts are ripened. Like one who cuts away 
The bridge on which he has walked in safety 
To the other side, so Moses cut off all retreat 
To Pharaoh's throne, and did choose the calling 
Most hateful to an Egyptian ; he became 
A shepherd, and led his flocks and herds amid 
The solitudes and wilds of Midian, where ho 
Nursed in silent loneliness his earnest faith 
In God and a constant love for kindred, tribe 
And race. Years stole o'er him, but they took 
Mo atom from his strength, nor laid one heavj 

weight 
ripon his shoulders. The down upon his face 
Had ripened to a heavy beard ; the fire 
That glowed within his youthful eye had deepened 
To a calm and steady light, and yet his heart 
Was just as faithful to his race as when he had 
Stood in Pharaoh's courts and bade farewell 
Unto his daughter. 

There was a look of patient waiting on his face, 
A calm, grand patience, like one who had lifted 
Up his eyes to God and seen, with meekened face. 
The wings of some great destiny o'ershadowing 
All his life with strange and solemn glory. 
But the hour came when he must pass from thought 
To action. — when the hope of many years 



23 

Must reach its grand fruition, and Israers 

Great deliverance dawn. It happened thus: 

One day, as Moses led his flocks, he saw 

A fertile spot skirted by desert sands, — 

A pleasant place for flocks and herds to nip 

The tender grass and rest within its shady nooks ; 

And as he paused and turned, he saw a bush with fir* 

Aglow ; from root to stem a lambent flame 

Sent up its jets and sprays of purest light, 

And yet the bush, with leaves uncrisped, uncurled, 

Was just as green and fresh as if the breath 

Of early spring were kissing every leaf. 

Then Moses said I'll turn aside to see 

This sight, and as he turned he heard a voice 

Bidding him lay his sandals by, for Lo I he 

Stood on holy ground. Then Moses bowed hJg head 

Upon his staff* and spread his mantle o'er 

His face, lest he should see the dreadful majesty 

Of God ; and there, upon that lonely spot. 

By Horeb's mount, his shrinking hands received 

The burden of his God, which bade him go 

To Egypt's guilty king, and bid him let 

The oppressed go free. 

Commissioned thus 
He gathered up his flocks and herds and sought 
The tents of Jethro, and said " I pray thee 
Let me go and see if yet my kindred live ; 
And Jethro bade him go in peace, nor sought 
To throw himself across the purpose of his souL 



24 

Vet there was a tender parting in that tiome ; 

There were moistened eyes, and quivering lips, 

And lingering claspings of the parting hand, as Jeihro 

And his daughters stood within the light of that 

Clear morn, and gave to Moses and his wife 

And sons their holy wishes and their sad farewells. 

For he had been a son and brother in that home 

Since first with manly courtesy he had filled 

The empty pails of Reuel's daughters, and found 

A shelter 'neath his tent when flying from 

The wrath of Pharaoh. 

They journeyed on, 
Moses, Zipporah and sons, she looking back 
"With tender love upon the home she had left, 
With all its precious memories crowding round 
Her heart, and he with eager eyes tracking 
His path across the desert, longing once more 
To see the long-lost faces of his distant home, 
The loving eyes so wont to sun him with their 
Welcome, and the aged hands that laid upon 
His youthful head their parting blessing. They 
Journeyed on till morning's flush and noonday 
Splendor glided into the softened, mellowed 
Light of eve, and the purple mists were deepening 
On the cYiSk and hills, when Horeb, dual 
Crowned, arose before him ; and there he met 
His brother Aaron, s^nt by God to be 
His spokesman and to bear him company 
To Pharaoh. Tender and joyous was their greetirff 



25 

They talked of home and friends until the lighter 
Ripple of their tnoughts in deeper channels flowed ; 
And then they talked of Israel's bondage, 
And the great deliverance about to dawn 
Upon the fortunes of their race ; and Moses 
Told him of the burning bush, and how the message 
Of his God was trembling on his lips. And thus 
They talked until the risen moon had veiled 
The mount in soft and silvery light ; and then 
They rested until morn, and rising up, refreshed 
From sleep, pursued their way until they reached 
The land of Goshen, and gathered up the elders 
Of their race, and told them of the message 
Of their Father's God. Then eager lips caught up 
The words of hope and passed the joyful " news 
Around, and all the people bowed their heads 
And lifted up their hearts in thankfulness 
To God." 

That same day 
Moses sought an audience with the king. He found 
Him on his throne surrounded by the princes 
Of his court, who bowed in lowly homage 
At his feet. And Pharaoh heard with curving lip 
And flushing cheek the message of the Hebrew's God, 
Then asked in cold and scornful tones, " Has 
Israel a God, and if so where has he dwelt 
For ages ? As the highest priest of Egypt 
I have prayed to Isis, and the Nile has 
Overflowed fier banks and filled the land 



28 

With plenty, but these poor slaves have cried untc 

Their God, then crept in want and sorrow 

To their graves. Surely Mizraim's God is strong 

And Israel's is weak ; then wherefore should 

I heed his voice, or at his bidding lieik 

A single yoke?" Thus reasoned that pK^ud king, 

And turned a deafened ear unto the words 

Of Moses and his brother, and yet he felt 

Strangely awed before their presence, because 

They stood as men who felt the grandeur 

Of their mission, and thought not of themselve*, 

But of their message. 



Chapter V. 

On the next day Pharaoh called a council 

Of his mighty men, and before them laid 

'"he message of the brethren : then Amorphel, 

Keeper of the palace and nearest lord 

Unto the king, arose, and bending low 

Before the throne, craved leave to speak a word. 

Amorphel was a crafty, treacherous man, 

With oily lips well versed in flattery 

And courtly speech, a supple reed ready 

To bend before his royal master's lightest 

Breath — Pharaoh's willing tool. He said 

" Gracious king, thou has been too lenient 

With these slaves ; ligjht as their burdens are, they 



27 

Fret and chafe beneath them. They are idle 
And the blood runs riot in their veins. Now 
If thou would'st have these people dwell in peace, 
Increase, I pray thee, their tasks and add unto 
Their burdens ; if they faint beneath their added 
Tasks, they will have less time to plot sedition 
And revolt." 

Then Rhadma, oldest lord in Pharaoh's court, 

Arose. He was an aged man, whose white 

And heavy beard hung low upon his breast, 

Yet there was a hard cold glitter in his eye, 

And on his face a proud and evil look. 

He had been a servant to the former king, 

And wore his signet ring upon his hand. 

He said, " I know this Moses well. Fourscore 

Years ago Princess Charraian found him 

By the Nile and rescued him from death, and did 

Choose him as her son, and had him versed in all 

The mysteries and lore of Egypt. But blood 

Will tell, and this base slave, with servile blood 

Within his veins, would rather be a servant 

Than a prince, and so, with rude and reckless haDO, 

He thrust aside the honors of our dear 

Departed king. Pharaoh was justly wroth. 

But for his daughter's sake he let the trespass 

Pass. But one day this Moses slew an Egyptian 

In his wrath, and then the king did seek his life ; 

Btit he fled, it is said, unto the deserts 



28 

Of Arabia, and became a shepherd for the piiesi 
Of Midian. But now, instead of leading flocks 
And herds, he aspires to lead his captive race 
To freedom. These men mean mischief; sedition 
And revolt are in their plans. Decree, I pray thee, 
That these m^n shall gather their own straw 
And yet their tale of bricks shall be the same." 
And these words pleased Pharaoh well, and all his 
Lords chimed in with one accord. And Pharaoh 
Wrote the stern decree and sent it unto Goshen — 
That the laborers should gather their own straw, 
And yet they should not 'minish of their tale of bricks 

'Twas a sad day in Goshen ; 
The king's degree hung like a gloomy pall 
Around their homes. The people fainted 'neath 
Their added tasks, then cried unto the king. 
That he would ease their burdens ; but he hissed 
A taunt into their ears and said, " ye are 
Idle, and your minds are filled with vain 
And foolish thoughts ; get you unto your tasks, 
And ye shall not 'minish of your tale of bricks." 
And then they turned their eyes 
Reproachfully on Moses and his brother, 
And laid the cruel blame upon their shoulders. 
'Tis an old story now, but then 'twas new 
Unto the brethren, — how God's anointed ones 
Must walk with bleeding feet the paths that turn 
To lines of living light; how hands that bring 
Salvation in their palms are pierced with cruel 



29 

Nails, and lips that quiver first "with some great truth 
Are steeped in bitterness and tears, and brows 
Now bright beneath the aureola of God, 
Have bunt beneath the thorny crowns of earth. 

There was hope for Israel, 
But they did not see the golden fringes 
Of their coming morn ; they only saw the cold. 
Grey sky, and fainted 'neath the cheerless gloom 

Moses sought again the presence of the king : 
And Pharaoh's brow grew dark with wrath. 
And rising up in angry haste, he said, 
Defiantly, " If thy God be great, show 
Us some sign or token of his power." 
Then Moses threw his rod upon the floor, 
And it trembled with a sign of life ; 
The dark wood glowed, then changed into a thing 
Of glistening scales and golden rings, and green. 
And brown and purple stripes ; a hissing, hateful 
Thing, that glared its fiery eye, and darting forth 
From Moses' side, lay coiled and panting 
At the monarch's feet. With wonder open-eyed 
The king gazed on the changed rod, then called 
For his magicians — wily men, well versed 
In sinful lore — and bade them do the same. 
And they, leagued with the powers of night, did 
Also change their rods to serpents ; then Moses' 
Serpent darted forth, and with a startling hiss 
And angry gulp, he swallowed the living things 



30 

That coiled along his path. And thus did Moees 
Show that Israel's God had greater power 
Than those dark sons of night. 

But not by th's alone 
Did God his mighty power reveal : He changed 
Their waters ; every fountain, well and pool 
Was red with blood, and lips, all parched with thirst, 
Shrank back in horror from the crimson draughts. 
And then the worshiped Nile grew full of life : 
Millions of frogs swarmed from the stream — they 

clogged 
The pathway of the priests and filled the sacred 
Fanes, and crowded into Pharaoh's bed, and hopped 
Into his trays of bread, and slumbered in his 
Ovens and his pans. 

Then came another plague, of loathsome vermin ; 
They were gray and creeping things, that made 
Their very clothes alive with dark and sombre 
Spots — things so loathsome in the land they did 
Suspend the service of the temple ; for no priest 
Dared to lift his hand to any god with one 
Of these upon him. And then the sky grew 
Dark, as if a cloud were passing o'er its 
Changeless blue ; a buzzing sound broke o'er 
The city, and the land was swarmed with flies. 
The murrain laid their cattle low ; the hail 
Cut ofi* the first fruits of the Nile ; th'e locusts, 
With their hunt^ry jaws, destroyed the later cropa, 



31 

ind left the ground as brown and bare as if a fire 
Had scorched it through, 

Then angry blains 
And fiery boils did blur the flesh of man 
And beast ; and then for three long days, nor saffron 
Tint, nor crimson flush, nor soft and silvery light 
Divided day from morn, nor told the passage 
Of the hours ; men rose not from their seats, but sal 
In silent awe. That lengthened night lay like a 

burden 
On the air, — a darkness one might almost gather 
In his hand, it was so gross and thick. Then came 
The last dread plague — the death of the first boru. 

'Twas midnight, 
And a startling shriek rose from each palace, 
Home and hut of Egypt, save the blood-besprinkled 

komes 
Of Goshen ; the midnight seemed to shiver with a 

sense 
Of dread, as if the mystic angels wing 
Had chilled the very air with horror. 
Death I Death I was everywhere — in every home 
A corpse — in every heart a bitter woe. 
There were anxious fingerings for the pulse 
Jliat ne'er would throb again, and eager listening! 
For some sound of life — a hurrying to and fro~— 
Then burning kisses on the cold lips 
Of the dead, bitter partings, sad farewells, 
jAnd mournful sobs and piercing shrieks. 



32 

And eep and heavy groans throughout the length 

And breadth of Egypt. 'Twas the last dread piagu*^ 

But it had snapped in twain the chains on which 

The rust of ages lay, and Israel was freed ; 

Not only freed, but thrust in eager haste 

From out the land, '^^'-^mbling men stood by, aiir: 

longed 
To see them gather up their flocks and herds, 
And household goods, and leave the laud; becaum 

they felt 
That death stood at their doors as long as Israel 
Lingered there ; and they went forth in haste, 
To tread the paths of freedom. 



Chapter VI. 



But Pharaoh was strangely blind, and turning 

From his first-born and his dead, with Egypt's wail 

Scarce still upou his ear, he asked which way had 

Israel gone? They told him that they journeyed 

Towards the mighty sea, and were encamped 

Near Baalzephn. 

Then Pharaoh said, " the wilderness will hem tucm in, 

The mighty sea will roll its barriers in front, 

And with my chariots and my warlike men 

ril bring them back, or mete them out their graves." 

Then Pharaoh's officers arose 
And gathered up the armies of the king 
And made his chariots ready for pursuit 



•iiV^itli proud escutcheous blazoned to the sua, 

lu Ills chariot of ivory, pearl and gold, 

Pharaoh rolled out of Egypt ; and with him 

Rode his mighty men, their banners floating 

On the breeze, their spears and armor glittering 

In the morning light ; and Israel saw, 

With fainting hearts, their old oppressors on their 

Track : then women wept in hopeless terror ; 

Children hid their faces in their mothers' robes, 

And strong men bowed their heads in agony and 

dread ; 
And then a bitter, angry murmur rose, — 
" Were there no graves in Egypt, that thou hast 
Brought us here to die ?" 
Then Moses lifted up his face, aglow 
With earnest faith in God, and bade their fainuiiR 

hearts 
Be strong and they should his salvation see. 
" Stand still," said Moses to the fearful throng 
Whose hearts were fainting in the wild, " Stand stiii 
Ah, that was Moses' word, but higher and greater 
Came God's watchword for the hour, and not for th**! 
Alone, but all the coming hours of time. 
"Speak ye unto the people and bid them 
forward go ; stretch thy hand across the waters 

\nd smite them with thy rod." And Moses smo?* 
^'he restless sea ; the waves stood up in heaps, 

'Chen lay as calm and still as lips that just 
. lad tasted death. The secret-loving sea 
2* 



Laid bare her coral caves and iris-tinted 
Floor ; that wall of flood which lined the people'i 
Way wad God's own wondrous masonry ; 
The signal pillar sent to guide them through the wilo 
Moved its dark shadow till it fronted Egypt's 
Camp, but hung in fiery splendor, a light 
To Israel's path. Madly rushed the hosts 
Of Pharaoh upon the people's track, when 
The solemn truth broke on them — that God 
For Israel fought. With cheeks in terror 
Blenching, and eyes astart with fear, " let 
Us flee," they cried, " from Israel, for their God 
Doth fight against us ; he is battling on their side." 
They had trusted in their chariots, but now 
That hope was vain ; God had loosened every 
Axle and unfastened every wheel, and each 
Face did gather blackness and each heart stood stiL 
With fear, as the livid lightnings glittered 
And the thunder roared and muttered on the air, 
And they saw the dreadful ruin that shuddered 
O'er their heads, for the waves began to tremble 
And the wall of flood to bend. Then arose 
A cry of terror, baflled hate and hopeless dread, 
A gurgling sound of horror, as " the waves 
Came madly dashing, wildly crashing, seeking 
Out their place again," and the flower and pride 
Of Egypt sank as lead within the sea 
Till the waves ihrew back their corpses cold au^ 
etark 






(Jpon the shore, and ine soug o7 lnhbi » 

Triumph was the requiem of their foes. 

Oh the grandeur of that triumph ; up the cliifa 

And down the valleys, o'er the dark and restless 

Sea, rose the people's shout of triumph, going 

Up in praise to God, and the very air 

Seemed jo}''.^ :jl for the choral soug of raillioijs 

Throbbed up.'VL its viewless wirgs. 

Then another soug of triumph rose in acceuti 

Soft and clear; " 'twas the voice of Moses' sister 

Kising in the tide of song. The warm blood 

Of her childhood seemed dancing in her veins ; 

The roses of her girlhood were flushing 

On her cheek, and her eyes flashed out the splendor 

Of long departed days, for time itself seemed 

Pausing, and she lived the past again ; again 

The Nile flowed by her; she was watching by thfl 

stream, 
A little ark of rushes where her baby brother lay ; 
The tender tide of rapture swept o'er her soul again 
She had felt when Pharaoh's daughter had claimed 
ilim as her own, and her mother wept for joy 
Above her rescued son. Then again she saw 
Him choosing " 'twixt Israel's pain and sorrow 
And Egypt's pomp and pride." But now he stood 
Their leader triumphant on that shore, and loud 
fjhe struck the cymbals as she led the Hebrew women 
•[n music, dance and song, as they shouted out 
Triumphs iu sweet and glad refrains. 



MIRIAM'S SONG. 
i wail in the palace, a wail in the hut, 

The midnight is shivering with dread, 
\nd Egypt wakes up with a shriek and & soft 

To mourn for her first-born and dead. 

In the morning glad voices greeted the light, 
As the Nile with its splendor was flushed; 

At midnight silence had melted their tones, 
And their music forever is hushed. 

In the morning the princes of palace and court 
To the heir of the kingdom bowed down; 

'Tis midnight, pallid and stark in his shroud 
He dreams not of kingdom or crown. 

As a monument blasted and blighted by God, 
Through the ages proud Pharaoh shall stand, 

All seamed with the vengeance and scarred with th© wi-ati 
That leaped from God's terrible hand. 



Chapter VII. 



They journeyed on from Zuphiin's sea until 
They reached the sacred mount and heard the solenua 
Decalogue. The mount was robed in blackness, — 
Heavy and deep the shadows lay ; the thunder 
Crashed and roared upon the air ; the lightning 
Leaped from crag to crag; God's fearful splendor 
Flowed around, and Sinai quaked and shuddered 
To its base, and there did God proclaim 
Unto their listening ears, the gr^*-^ the grand, 



I 



«7 

The central and the primal truth of all 
The universe — the unity of God. 

Only one God, — 
This truth received into the world's great life, 
Not as an idle drea'*: r' " speculative thing, 
But as a living, vitalizing thought, 
Should bind us closer to our God and link us 
With our fellow man, the brothers and co-heirs 
With Christ, the elder brother of our race. 
Before this truth let every blade of war 
Grow dull, and slavery, cowering at the light, 
Skulk from the homes of men ; instead 
Of war bring peace and freedom, love and joy, 
And light for man, instead of bondage, whipa 
And chains. Only one God I the strongest hand* 
Should help the weak who bend before the blasta 
Of life, because if God is only one 
Then we are the children of his mighty hand, 
'And when we best serve man, we also serve 
Our God. Let haughty rulers learn that men 
Of humblest birth and lowliest lot have 
Rights as sacred and divine as theirs, and they 
Who fence in leagues of earth by bonds and claima 
And title deeds, forgetting laud and water, 
Air and light are God's own gifts and heritage 
For man — who throw their selfish lives betweeD 
God's sunshine and the shivering poor — 
Have never learned the wondrous depin, nor scaled 
Ji^'he glorious height of this great centra* truth, 



38 



Around which clusters all the holiest faiths 
Of earth. The thunder died upon the air, 
The lightning ceased its livid play, the sraok« 
And darkness died away in clouds, as soft 
And fair as summer wreaths that lie around 
The setting sun, and Sinai stood a bare 
And rugged thing among the sacred scenes 
Of earth. 



Chapter VIII. 



It was a weary thing to bear the burden 
Of that restless and rebellious race. With 
Sinai's thunders almost crashing in their ears, 
They made a golden calf, and in the desert 
Spread an idol's feast, and sung the merry songs 
They had heard when Mizraim's songs bowed dowi 

before 
Their vain and heathen gods ; and thus for man) 

years 
Did Moses bear the evil manners of his race — 
Their angry murmurs, fierce regrets and strange 
Forgetfulncss of God. Born slaves, they did not lovi 
The freedom of the wild more than their pota of 

flesh. 
And pleasant savory things once gathered 
From the gardens of the Nile. 
If slavery only laid its weight of chains 



39 

Upon the weary, aching limbs, e'en then 
Tt were a curse ; but when it frets through nerr* 
And flesh and eats into the weary soul. 
Oh then it is a thing for every huraaa 
Heart to loathe, and this was Israel's fate , 
For when the chains were shaken from their liinU 
They failed to strike the impress from their souln. 
While he who'd basked beneath the radiance 
Of a throne, ne'er turned regretful eyes upon 
The past, nor sighed to grasp again the pleasures 
Once resigned ; but the saddest trial was 
To see the light and joy fade from their faces 
When the faithless spies spread through their cmmp 
Their ill report ; and when the people wept 
In hopeless unbelief and turned their faces 
Egyptward, and asked a captain from their bandi* 
To lead them back where they might bind anew 
Their broken chains, when God arose and shut 
The gates of promise on their lives, and left 
Their bones to bleach beneath Arabia's desert s&ud? 
But though they slumbered in the wild, they died 
With broader freedom on their lips, and for their 
Little ones did God reserve the heritage 
So rudely thrust aside. 



40 



THE DEATH OF MOSES.- Chapter LX. 

His work was done ; his blessing lay 
Like precious ointment on his people's head, 
And God's great peace was resting on his souL 
His life had been a lengthened sacrifice, 
A thing of deep devotion to his race, 
Since first he turned his eyes on Egypt's gild 
And glow, and clasped their fortunes in his hand 
And held them with a firm and constant grasp. 
But now his work was done ; his charge was laid 
In Joshua's hand, and men of younger blood 
Were destined to possess the land and pass 
Through Jordan to the other side. He too 
Had hoped to enter there — to tread the soil 
Made sacred by the memories of his 
Kindred dead, and rest till life's calm close beneath 
The sheltering vines and stately palms of that 
Fair land ; that hope had colored all his life's 
Young dreams and sent its mellowed flushes o'er 
His later years ; but God's decree was otherwise. 
And 80 he bowed his meekened soul in calm 
Submission to the word, which bade him climb 
To Nebo's highest peak, and view the pleasant land 
From Jordan's swells unto the calmer ripples 
Of the tideless sea, then die with all its 
Loveliness in sight. 
As he passed from Moab's grassy vale to climb 



41 

The rugged mount, the people stood in mournful 

groups, 
Some, with quivering lips and tearful eyes, 
Reaching out unconscious hands, as if to stay 
His steps and keep him ever at their side, while 
Others gazed Avith reverent awe upon 
The calm and solemn beauty on his aged brow, 
The look of loving trust and lofty faith 
Still beaming from an eye that neither care 
Nor time had dimmed. As he passed upward, tend?; 
Blessings, earnest prayers and sad farewells rose 
On each wave of air, then died in one sweet 
Murmur of regretful love ; and Moses stood 
Alone on Nebo^s mount. 

Alone I not one 
Of all that mighty throng who had trod with him 
In triumph through the parted flood was there. 
Aaron had died in Hor, with son and brother 
By his side ; and Miriam too was gone. 
But kindred hands had made her grave, and Kaduin 
Held her dust. But he was all alone; nor wife 
Nor child was there to clasp in death his hand, 
And bind around their bleeding hearts the preciour. 
Parting words. And yet he was not all alone, 
For God's great presence flowed around his path 
And stayed him in that solemn hour. 

He stood upon the highest peak of Nebo, 
And saw the Jordan chafing through its gorges, 



42 

Its banks maJe bright by scarlet bloomB 

And purple blossoms. The placid lakes 

And emerald meadows, the snowy crest 

Of distant mountains, the ancient rocks 

That dripped with honey, the hills all bather? 

In light and beauty ; the shady groves 

And peaceful vistas, the vines opprest 

With purple riches, the fig trees fruit-crowned 

Green and golden, the pomegranates with crimson 

Blushes, the olives with their darker clusters, 

Rose before liim like a vision, full of beauty 

And delight. Gazed he on the lovely landscape 

Till it faded from his view, and the wing 

Of death^s sireet angel hovered o'er the mountain'* 

Crest, and he heard his garments rustle through 

The watches of the night. 

Then another, fairer, vision 
Broke upon his longing gaze ; 'twas the land 
Of crystal fountains, love and beauty, joy 
And light, for the pearly gates flew open, 
And his ransomed soul went in. And when mornlnj/ 
O'er the mountain fringed each crag and peak wii^ 

light. 
Cold and lifeless lay the leader. God had touched 
His eyes with slumber, giving his beloved sleep. 

Oh never on that mountain 

Was seen a lovelier sight 

Than the troupe of fair young angels 

That gathered 'round the dead. 



43 

With gentle hands they bore him 

That bright and shining train, 

From Nebo's lonely mountain 

Co Bleep in Moab's valo. 

3ut they sung no mornful dirgoR 

No solemn requiems said^ 

And the soft wave of their pinionc 

Made music as they trod. 

But no one heard them passing, 

'Jone saw their chosen grave ; 

t was the angels secret 

Where Moses should be laid. 

V.nd when the grave was finiih<w! 

L'hey trod with golden sandali 

\.bove the sacred spot, 

A.nd the brightest, fairest flowiw 

Sprang up beneath their tread- 

Nor broken turf, nor hillock 

Did e'er reveal that grave, 

And truthful lips have never tat<i 

Wq knoir where he ii ^td4 



TUE MISSION OF THE FLOWERS. 



In a lovely garden, filled with fair and blooming 
flowers, stood a beautiful rose tree. It was tbe centre 
of attraction, and won the admiration of every eye ; 
its beauteous flowers were sought to adorn the bridal 
wreath and deck the funeral bier. It was a thing of 
joy and beauty, and its earth mission was a blessing. 
Kind hands plucked its flowers to gladden the cham- 
ber of sickness and adorn the prisoner's lonely cell. 
Young girls wore them 'mid their clustering curls, and 
grave brows relaxed when they gazed upon their won- 
drous beauty. Now the rose was very kind and gene- 
rous hearted, and, seeing how much joy she dispensed, 
wished that every flower could only be a rose, and like 
herself have the privilege of giving joy to the children 
of moil ; and while she thus mused, a bright and lovely 
spirit approached her and said, ''I know thy wishes 
and will grant thy desires. Thou sluilt have power 
to change every flower in the garden to thine ow^n 
likeness. When the soft winds come wooing thy 
fairest buds and flowers, thou shalt breathe gently 



45 

*►' thy sister plants, and beneath thy influence the* 
#tfiall change to beautiful roses." The rose trei 
bowed her head in silent gratitude to the gentle beinj 
who had granted her this wondrous power. All nigh* 
the stars bent over her from their holy homes above, 
but she scarcely heeded their vigils. The gentle dewe 
nestled in her arms and kissed the cheeks of her 
daughters ; but she hardly noticed them ; — she was 
waiting for the soft airs to awaken and seek hei 
charming abode. At length the gentle airs greeted 
her, and she hailed them with a joyous welcome, and 
then commenced her work of change. The first object 
that met her vision was a tulip superbly arrayed in 
scarlet and gold. When she was aware of the inten- 
tion of her neighbor, her cheeks flamed with anger, 
her eyes flashed indignantly, and she haughtily refused 
to change her proud robes for the garb the rose tree 
had prepared for her ; but she could not resist the spell 
that was upon her, and she passively permitted the 
garments of the rose to enfold her yielding limbs. The 
verbenas saw the change that had fallen upon the tulip 
and dreading that a similar fate awaited them, crept 
closely to the ground, and, while tears gathered in their 
eyes, they felt a change pass through their sensitive 
frames, and instead of goutle verbenas they were 
blushing roses. She breathed upon the sleepy poppies ; 
a deeper slumber fell upon their senses, and when they 
awoke, they too had changed to bright and beautiful 
roses. The heliotrope ^read her fate in the lot of her 



46 

liaters, and, bowing her fair head in silent sorrow, 
gracefully submitted to her unwelcome destiny. The 
riolets, whose mission was to herald the approach of 
spring, were averse to losing their identity. " Surely," 
said they, " we have a mission as well as the rose ;" 
but with heavy hearts they saw themselves changed 
like their sister plants. The snow drop drew around 
her her robes of virgin white ; she would not willingly 
exchange them for the most brilliant attire that ever 
decked a flower's form ; to her they were the emblems 
of purity and innocence ; but the rose tree breathed 
upon her, and with a bitter sob she reluctantly con- 
sented to the change. The dahlias lifted their heads 
proudly and defiantly ; they dreaded the change, but 
scorned submission ; they loved the fading year, and 
wished to spread around his dying couch their brightest, 
fairest flowers; but vainly they struggled, the doom 
was upon them, and they could not escape. A modest 
lily that grew near the rose tree shrank instinctively 
from her; but it was in vain, and with tearful eyes 
and trembling limbs she yielded, while a quiver of 
agony convulsed her frame. The marygolds sighed 
submissively and made no remonstrance. The garden 
pinks grew careless, and submitted without a murmur, 
while other flowers, less fragrant or less"'fair, paled with 
sorrow or reddened with anger ; but the spell of the 
rose tree was upon them, and every flower was changed 
by her power, and that once beautiful garden was over- 
ran with roses ; it had become a perfect wilderness of 



47 

roees ; the garden had changed, but that variety which 
had lent it so much beauty was gone, and men grew 
tired of roses, for they were everywhere. The smallest 
violet peeping faintly from its bed would have been 
welcome, the humblest primrose would have been 
hailed with delight, — even a dandelion would have 
be<«i a harbinger of joy ; and when the rose saw that 
th« children of men were dissatisfied with the change 
f^^ had made, her heart grew sad within her, and she 
ityAffl the power had never been given her to change 
her sister plants to roses, and tears came into her eyes 
as she mused, when suddenly a rough wind shook her 
drooping form, and she opened her eyes and found that 
she had only been dreaming. But an important 
lesson had been taught; she had learned to respect 
the individuality of her sister flowers, and began to 
lee that they, as well as herself, had their own missions, 
— some to gladden the eye with their loveliness and 
tiirill the soul with delight ; some to transmit fragrance 
to the air ; others to breathe a refining influence upon 
the world ; some had power to lull the aching brow 
and soothe the weary heart and brain into forgetful- 
ness ; and of those whose mission she did not under- 
stand, she wisely concluded there must be some object 
in their creation, and resolved to be true to her ov/u 
earth-mission, and lay her fairest buds and flov/en 
upon the altars of love and truth. 



48 
THE RAGGED STOCKING. 



Do you see this ragged stocking, 
Here a rent and there a hole? 

Each thread of this little stocking 
Is woven around my soul. 

Do you wish to hear my stor}^ ? 

Excuse me, the tears will start. 
For the sight of this ragged stocking 

Stirs the fountains of my heart. 

You say that my home is happy ; 

To me 'tis earth's fairest place, 
But its sunshine, peace and gladness 

Back to this stocking I trace. 

I was once a wretched drunkard ; 

Ah !• you start and say not so ; 
But the dreadful depths I'v^e sounded, 

And I speak of what I know. 

I was wild and very reckless 

Wiien I stood on manhood's brink, 

And, joining with pleasure-seekers 
Learned to revel and drink. 

Strong drink is a raging demon, 
In his hands are shame and woe ; 

He mocketh the strength of the might^^ 
And bringeth the strong man low. 



49 

The light of my home was darkened 

By the shadow of my sin ; 
And want and woe unbarr'd the door, 

And suffering entered in. 
******** 

The streets were full one Cin-istmas eve, 

And alive with girls and boys, 
Merrily looking through window-panes 

At bright and beautiful toys. 

And throngs of parents came to buy 

The gifts that children prize, 
And homeward trudged with happy hearts, 

The love-light in their eyes. 

I thought of my little Charley 

At home in his lowly bed, 
With the shadows around his life, 

And in shame I bowed my head. 

I entered my home a sober man^ 
My heart b)^ remorse was wrung, 

And there in the chimney corner, 
This little stocking was hung. 

Faded and worn as you see it ; 

To me 'tis a precious thing. 
And I never gaze upon it 

But unbidden tears will spring. 

4 



50 

I began to search my pockets, 
But scarcely a dime was there; 

But scanty as was the pittance, 
This stocking received its share. 

For a longing seized upon me 
To gladden the heart of my boy. 

And I bought him some cakes and candy, 
And added a simple toy. 

Then I knelt by this little stocking 
And sobbed out an earnest prayer, 

And arose with strength to wrestle 
And break from the tempter's snare. 

And this faded, worn-out stocking, 

So pitiful once to see, 
Became the wedge that broke my chain, 

And a blessing brought to me. 

Do you marvel then I prize it? 

When each darn and seam and liole 
Is linked with my soul's deliverance 

From the bondage of the bowl ? 

And to night my wife will tell you. 
Though I've houses, gold and land, 

He holds no treasure more precious 
Than this stocking in my hand. 



51 
THE FATAL PLEDGE. 



" Pledge me with wine/' the maiden cried, 

Her tones were gay and light ; 
" From others you have turned aside, 

I claim your pledge to-night." 

The blood rushed to the young man's cheek 

Then left it deadly pale; 
Beneath the witchery of her smile 

He felt his courage fail. 

For many years he'd been a slave 

To the enchanting bowl, 
Until he grasped with eager hands 

The reins of self-control ; 

And struggled with his hated thrall, 

Until he rent his chain, 
And strove to stand erect and free, 

And be a man again. 

When others came with tempting words 

He coldly turned aside. 
But she who held the sparkling cup 

Was his affianced bride ; 

And like a vision of delight. 

Bright, beautiful and fair, 
With thoughtless words she wove for him 

The meshes of despair. 



52 



From jeweled hands he took the cup, 

Nor heard the serpent's hiss ; 
Nor saw beneath its ruby glow 

The deadly adder's hiss. 

Like waves that madly, wildly dash, 

When dykes are overthrown. 
The barriers of his soul gave way, 

Each life with wrecks was strewn. 

And she who might have reached her hand 

To succor and to save, 
Soon wept in hopeless agony 

Above a drunkard's grave. 

And bore through life with bleeding heart 

Remembrance of that night, 
When she had urged the tempted man 

With wine to make his plight. 



CHRIST'S ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM. 

He had plunged into our sorrows, 
And our sin had pierced his heart, 

As before him loomed death's shadow, 
And he knew he must depart. 

But they hailed him as a victor 

As he into Salem came, 
And the very children shouted 

Loud hosannas to his name. 

Bat he knew behind that triumph, 

Rising gladly to the sky, 
Soon would come the cries of malice: 

Crucify him ! Crucify ! 

Onward rode the blessed Saviour, 
Conscious of the coming strife 

Soon to break in storms of hatred 
Round his dear, devoted life. 

Ghastly in its fearful anguish 
Rose the cross before his eyes, 

But he saw the joy beyond it, 
And did all the shame despise. 

Joy to see the cry of scorning 
Through the ages ever bright, 

And the cross of shame transfigured 
To a throne of love and lioht. 



54 



Joy to know his soul's deep travail 
Should not he a thing in vain, 

And that joy and peace sliould blossom 
From his agonizing pain. 



THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS. 

It was done, the deed of horror ; 

Christ had died upon the cross. 
And within an upper chamber 

The disciples mourned their loss. 

Peter's eyes were full of anguish, 

Thinking sadly of the trial 
When his boasted self-reliance 

Ended in his Lord's deniaL 

Disappointment, deep and heavy. 
Shrouded ever}^ heart with gloom, 

As the hopes so fondly cherished 
Died around the garden tomb. 

And they thought with shame and sorrow 
How they fled in that dark hour, 

When they^ saw tlieir Lord and IVLaster 
In the clutch of Roman power. 

W^e had hoped, they sadly uttered, 

He would over Israel reign, 
But to-day he lies sepulchred. 

And our cherished hoj^es are vain. 



55 



In the humble home of Mary 
Slowly waned the hours away, 

Till she rose to seek the i^arden 
And the place where Jesus lay. 

Not the cross with all its anguish 
Could her loving heart restrain, 

But the tomb she sought was empty, 
And her heart o'erflowed with pain. 

To embalm my Lord and Master 
To this garden I have strayed. 

But, behold, I miss his body. 
And I know not where he's laid. 

Then a wave of strange emotion 
Swept her soul, as angels said, 

" Wherefore do ye seek the living 
'Mid the chambers of the dead? " 

Un perceived, her Lord stood by her, 

Silent witness of her grief, 
Bearing on his lips the tidings 

Sure to bring a glad relief 

But her tear-dimmed eyes were holden 
When she heard the Master speak ; 

Til ought she, only 'tis the gardener 
Asking whom her soul did seek. 



56 



Then a sudden fliisli of gladness 
O'er her grief- worn features spread; 

When she knew the voice of Jesus 
All her bitter anguish fled. 

Forth she reached hands in rapture. 

Touch me not, the Saviour said ; 
Take the message to my brethren, 

I have risen from the dead. 

Take them words of joy and comfort, 
Which will all their mourning end; 

To their Father and my Father, 
Tell them that I will ascend. 

"Brethren, I have seen the Master: 

He is risen from the dead." 
But like words of idle meaning 

Seemed the glorious words she said. 

Soon they saw the revelation 

Which would bid their mourning cease; 
Christ, the risen, stood before them 

Breathing words of love and peace. 

Timid men were changed to heroes, 
Weakness turned to wondrous might. 

And the cross became their standard, 
Luminous with love and light. 



From that lonely upper chamber, 
Holding up the rugged cross, 

With a glad and bold surrender 
They encountered shame and loss. 

In these days of doubt and error, 
In the conflict for the right, 

May our hearts be ever strengthened 
By the resurrection's might. 



SIMON'S COUNTRYMEN. 

They took away his seamless robe, 
With thorns they crowned his head, 

As harshly, fiercely cried his foes : 
" Barabbas in his stead." 

The friends he loved unto the end, 
Who shared his daily bread, 

Before the storms of wrath and hate 
Forsook their Lord and fled. 

To rescue men from death and sin 

He knew the awful cost. 
As wearily he bent beneath 

The burden of the cross. 

When Pilate had decreed his fate. 
And Jews withheld their aid, 

Then Simon, the Cyrenean, came : 
On him the cross was laid. 



68 

Not liis to .smite with cruel scorn, 

Nor mock the dying one, 
Thiit helpful man came from the land 

Kissed l^y the ardent sun — 

The land within whose slieltering arms 

The infant Jesus lay 
When Herod vainly bared his sword 

And sought the child to slay. 

Amid the calendar of saints 
We Simon's name may trace. 

On history's page thro' every age 
He bears an honored place. 

He little knew that cross would change 

Unto a throne of light; 
The crown of thorns upon Christ's brow 

Would be forever bright. 

Beneath the shadow of that cross 

Brave men wdth outstretched hands 
Have told the wondrous tale of love 

In distant heathen lands. 
And yet within our favored land. 

Where Christian churclies rise, 
The dark-browed sons of Africa 

Are hated and despised. 
Can they who speak of Christ as King, 

And glory in his name, 



59 

Forget that Simon's countiymen 
Still bear a cross of shame? 

Can they forget the cruel scorn 

Men shower on a race 
AVho treat the hues their Father gives 

As emblems of disgrace ? 

Will they erect to God their fanes 
And Christ with honor crown, 

And then with cruel weights of pain 
The African press down ? 

Oh, Christians, when we faint and bleed 

In this our native land, 
Reach out to us when peeled, opprest, 

A kindly helping hand, 
And bear aloft that sacred cross, 

Bright from the distant years. 
And say for Christ's and Simon's sake, 

We'll wipe away your tears. 
F<M' years of sorrow, toil and pain 

We'll bring you love and light, 
And in the name of Christ our Lord 

We'll make your pathway bright. 
Tliat seamless robe shall yet enfold 

The children of the sun, 
Till rich and poor and bond and free 

In Christ shall all be one. 



60 



And for his sake from pride and scorn 

Our spirits shall be free, 
Till through our souls shall sound the words 

He did it unto me. 



DELIVERANCE. 

Rise up ! rise up ! Oh Israel, 
Let a spotless lamb be slain ; 

The angel of death will o'er you bend 
And rend your galling chain. 

Sprinkle its blood upon the posts 

And lintels of your door ; 
When the angel sees the crimson spots 

Unharmed he will pass you o'er. 

Gather your flocks and herds to-night, 
Your children by 5- our side : 

A leader from Arabia comes 
To be your friend and guide. 

With girded loins and sandlcd feet 

Await the hour of dread, 
When Mizraim shall wildly mourn 

Her first-born and her dead. 

The sons of Abraham no more 

Shall crouch 'neath Pliaroah's hand, 

Trembling with agony and dread, 
He'll thrust you from the land. 



61 



And ye shall hold in unborn years 

A feast to mark this day, 
When joyfully the fathers rose 

And cast their chains away. 

When crimson tints of morning flush 

The golden gates of day, 
Or gorgeous hue of even melt 

In sombre shades away, 

Then ye shall to your children teach 

The meaning of this feast. 
How from the proud oppressor's hand 

Their fathers were released, 

And ye shall hold through distant years 

This feast with glad accord, 
And children's children yet shall learn 

To love and trust the Lord. 

Ages have passed since Israel trod 
In triumph through the sea, 

And yet they hold in memory's urn 
Their first great jubilee. 

When Moses led the ransomed hosts, 

And Miriam's song arose. 
While ruin closed around the path 

Of their pursuing foes. 



62 



Shall Israel thro' long varied years 
These memories cherish yet, 

And we who lately stood redeemed 
Our broken chains forget? 

Should we forget the wondrous change 

That to our people came, 
When justice rose and sternly plead 

Our cause with sword and flame ? 

And led us through the storms of war 

To freedom's fairer shore, 
When slavery sank beneath a flood 

Whose waves were human gore. 

Oh, youth and maidens of the land, 

Rise up with one accord, 
And in the name of Christ go forth 

To battle for the Lord. 

Go forth, but not in crimson fields. 

With fratricidal strife, 
But in the name of Christ go forth 

For freedom, love and life. 

Go forth to follow in his steps, 

Who came not to destro}''. 
Till wastes shall blossom as the rose, 

And deserts sing for joy. 



63 



SIMON'S FEAST. 

He is coming, she said, to Simon's feast. 

The prophet of Gahlee, 
Though multitudes around him throng 

In longing his face to see. 

He enters the home as Simon's guest, 
But he gives no welcome kiss ; 

He brings no water to bathe his feet — 
Why is Simon so remiss ? 

The prophet's face is bright with love, 
And mercy beams from his eye ; 

He pities the poor, the lame and blind, 
An outcast, I will draw nigh. 

If a prophet, he will surely know 
The guilt of my darkened years ; 

With broken heart I'll seek his face, 
And bathe his feet with my tears. 

No holy rabbi lays his hand 

In blessing on my head ; 
No loving voice floats o'er the path, 

The downward path I tread. 

Unto the Master's side she pressed, 

A penitent, frail and fair, 
Rained on his feet a flood of tears. 

And then wiped them with her hair. 



64 



Over the face of Simon swept 

An air of puzzled surprise ; 
Can my guest a holy prophet be, 

And not this woman despise? 

Christ saw the thoughts that Simon's heart 

Had written upon his face, 
Kindly turned to the sinful one 

In her sorrow and disgrace. 

Where Simon only saw the stains, 
Where sin and shame were rife, 

Christ looked beneath and saw the germs 
Of a fair, outflowering life. 

Like one who breaks a galling chain, 

And sets a prisoner free, 
He rent her fetters with the words, 

''Thy sins are forgiven thee." 

God be praised for the gracious words 
Which came through that woman's touch 

That souls redeemed thro' God's dear Son 
May learn to love him so much ; 

That souls once red with guilt and crime 
May their crimson stains outgrow ; 

The scarlet spots upon their lives 
Become whiter than driven snow. 



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